Jarred ,temporary name
by vickevire
Summary: There is only one brig. Guess who James will be sharing it with? Vunerability. Protectiveness. NONCON. Tho not between Sp.No
1. Old Acquaintance

I'm not sure there is a plot. So don't ask me how they got here, I have no idea.  
Disclaimer: Well... Pirate!  
**A/N: **I have had help, now. Quite a lot. I think I like it, my edgy writing has been smoothen. I know I like _with a dignified air _instead of _dignifiedly _and other great expressions that just doesn't pop up when English isn't your native language.  
**Do review.**

* * *

**An Old Acquaintance**

"This is an outrage" Norrington stated with a dignified air, his voice low. Captain Cut regarded him with cold, cunning eyes.

"I disagree, Commodore. It's a pleasure," purred Cut with a predatory smile. "It's a pity we only got one brig; you'll have to share."

Norrington's eyes darted to the cage, widening in surprise. "Captain Jack Sparrow!" he said. A strained smile flickered over Sparrow's face, and he continued to watch them from his slouched position in the corner furthest from the door.

"Old acquaintance?" Cut inquired, looking back and forth between them. Norrington snorted, but Cut looked at Sparrow's tight face, his blue eyes gleaming. "Don't be shy, Jack" he said, a threat in his voice.

As Norrington studied Sparrow, he was stunned by the man's stillness. Never in his life had he seen Jack Sparrow so tense and immobile. That false smile, however, a mere baring of teeth, was familiar. "You're right mate. We have, in fact, met before," continued Sparrow, flashing a bright smile at the Commodore. "Me own hanging, if I remember correctly. Unfortunately," Sparrow studied his nails smugly, "I had to leave early. Pressing business elsewhere, as it were."

Cut regarded him intensely. "You don't say, Captain Jack Sparrow…" his voice dark and somehow lazy. Sparrow's grin vanished immediately, before he forced something that was as much a grimace as a smile upon his face. Neither Cut nor Sparrow said anything more, but their eyes were locked, Cut's a silent demand, Sparrow's hard and unreadable.

After a spell, Cut stepped back, smiling grimly. "Very well…Lads?" Cut directed the two brutes that were holding Norrington, quite overenthusiastically between themselves. "Lock him in." And they did, with that same unwarranted enthusiasm.

Norrington scrambled to his feet, brushing off dirt, as Cut and his two lackeys walked away. He scowled at Sparrow's amused smile. "Commodore Norrington! Fancy meeting you here!"

Norrington's scowl deepened "I'm not overly surprised finding you here," he retorted, seating himself by the opposite wall.

Sparrow's smile only increased with amusement. "Ah, true" he said. Norrington watched as Sparrow uncurled himself, easing, his face and body coming alive. "But you, on the other hand... Pray tell, Commodore, how did you end up here, with dear ol' Jack, captivated by that dreaded Cut?" Sparrow tilted his head quizzically with innocent eyes. Norrington glared at him, annoyed. "I assure you, Commodore, that I'll be an eager audience." He twinkled encouragingly, smiling broadly. Norrington closed his eyes in exasperation, then they flew open as something registered in his mind.

Norrinton regarded Sparrow closely, "Sparrow!" he snapped , cutting off the pirates attempt to ramble further. "This Captain. This Cut... is dangerous?" He studied Sparrow's sombering face, his dark eyes deep and serious.

"Indeed." Sparrow's soft whisper spread stillness through the air. And Sparrow smiled, flopping down to the floor, wriggling himself comfortable.

"Sparrow, what are you doing?" The man looked up through a curtain of black hair.

"Why Commodore, I'm taking a nap." With that, he buried his face in the crook of his arms again. Norrington just stared at him. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. This whole situation was quite unbearable.

Time passed.

Damn the man, Norrington thought as he studied Sparrow's motionless body. This was neither the time nor the place for pride, but it did taste vile to give in. "Sparrow?" The head turned. "Could you perhaps reconsider," Norrington said sourly.

Sparrow teased him with that infuriating, smug, smile. "You did ask politely, but you forgot one very important thing, mate." Sparrow looked at him insistently. Norrington stared back, befuddled. Sparrow rose, with a frustrated sigh. "Captain. Cap-tain Sparrow."

Norrington couldn't help but smile. "Very well, Captain Sparrow. I've a mind to negotiate with this Cut. I would greatly appreciate your," Norrington's face was somewhat sour again "...view…on the matter."

Sparrow's expression did not bode well. "I'm afraid that's impossible, Commodore." Sparrow paused, then admitted, "There's no rum."

Norrington felt his face tighten in forced patience. Sparrow pouted. " I suppose I could try without. Now mate," he leaned forward, waving his hands. "Imagine I'm holding a bottle here." He raised it in the air, voice sardonic. "Here's luck to you, Commodore!" and pretended to drink.

Norrington's eyes fell shut again, and his shoulders sagged an inch or two. "Sp- Captain Sparrow. I think we'll both benefit from a truce. I do acknow-"

Sparrow interrupted him. "Don't bother, Commodore," giving him a sly look. "You've got any of your little boats in the vicinity?"

"Why, Sparrow, I fail to see why I should answer any of your questions."

"A bit stingy, aren't we?" Sparrow smiled humorlessly. "I did answer your bloody question. You don't want to deal with this pirate." His eyes grew distant, his voice unbearably soft. "Mark my words." Then he smiled grimly again "I doubt you'll have any choice in the matter. At least not any ...nice... ones."

"How reassuring." Sparrow smiled at that. A silence eased between them and Sparrow abruptly yawned. He started curling down, but paused, giving Norrington an examining look. "Is it beyond the Commodore to wake me if you suspect we'll be getting company?" Norrington was taken by surprise again, and just shook his head. "Good!" Sparrow exclaimed and for all looks of things calmly resumed his nap.

* * *

...more will follow...

Meanwhile, please feed me with reviews!

I have written what seems to be chapter 3... but, ehh, not chapter 2. I'm sorry sorry for not wirting in order. Bear with me.


	2. Company

**A/N: **I have updated chapter 1, and then I got some beta-help :)

This is more of a teaser, as I'm not finished with the next chapter. Just so you don't think I've abandoned the story!**

* * *

**

**Company**

"Sparrow!" said Norrington, low but intense. "Spar-row." He would _not_ touch that filthy man. Fortunately, Sparrow raised his head, and seemed to listen, then he quickly sat straight.

"Our pleasant host?" he said.

"So I assume," answered Norrington, staring at Sparrow in resignation. There really wasn't any other word for it. "What are you doing?"

Sparrow's face spoke quite plainly that he thought Norrington was the odd one. "I'm tucking in me shirt. Better to be proper, don't ya think?" He looked at his coat with remorse, but left it stuffed against the hull as it had been the whole time.

Norrington just shook his head, and stood watching stiffly as Cut and his two brutes approached.

* * *

TBC 

I'm needy... **Plz Review**


	3. Simple Terms

**A/N:** Heavier stuff ahead.  
I know, I know, short chapters. It takes time for me to write.

**

* * *

**

**Simple Terms**

Norrington felt uncomfortable and quite hungry, but determined to show neither. Cut wasn't sporting any of his smug, cold smiles now, but his eyes held a hidden excitement, and he moved with that same confident force as a man in control. They entered the brig, and Norrington retained his position, forcing himself not to back down.

"Get Sparrow and tie him," ordered Cut, and the two brutes hauled a reluctant Sparrow to his feet. "Commodore. It's time to start our ...negotiation."

"Belated, I would say." Norrington's voice was cold.

Cut's face split with a broad smile. Norrington began to suspect why, apart from the obvious reasons, the pirate was called Cut. "An eager fella, ain't we now?" said the man, amused. "Now, Commodore, my terms are very simple," he paused, effectfully. "I'll let you go free in exchange for the Dauntless."

Norrington's eyes widened, incredulously. "Unacceptable."

"Is it? I suppose I'll have to be more persuasive, then. I want you to sign the Dauntless over to me, Norrington. otherwise..." Cut's eyes flashed menacingly. "I will show, on Sparrow, what I intend to do to you."

"An accord forced by torture-" Norrington began, but was cut off.

"Torture? Who said a word about torture?" Cut purred. "Sow, take hold on the Commodore, will ya?" The taller of the pair released Sparrow and grabbed Norrington by his arms.

Cut advanced on Sparrow, who looked very much like a cornered animal. "Now, mate..." he said guardedly, gesturing with his trapped hands.

Cut stepped close to Sparrow, and grabbed Sparrow's jaw in his right hand. Sparrow was still as a marble statue as Cut circled him. Cut's man gave room to him and when he was standing behind Sparrow, he pulled his arm tight around Sparrow's throat, and pressed him against his own body. Sparrow writhed almost convulsively, but Cut only pressed harder, his right arm around the slim waist. The lackey had moved away completely. Cut was taller and wider than Sparrow, who almost was forced to stand on his toes in the death grip. Something with how small Sparrow looked... Something with the anticipation in the air... Norrington frowned. Something was off.

"Bring him closer" said Cut, throaty, and Norrington found himself dragged till he stood two feet away from Sparrow. Norrington met his eyes, and Sparrow gave him a shallow smile. When Cut began to talk again, Sparrow's eyes grew distant. "Commodore, Commodore..." Cut was almost whispering. He loosened his grip around Sparrow's throat a little, leaned to the side and blew air into Sparrow's ear. "Watch closely." And Norrington did, God help him, noting how Sparrow forced himself to relax, how painfully slow he exhaled. Cut laughed ruggedly, and Sparrow winced as he too shook with Cut's body.

* * *

...will write more...

I hadn't planned to end it like this, but alas, I need my sleep, and was eager to post.

I have taken a dark road... will you follow? Or is it, you know; "Abandon ship!" all you readers jump off, and my little fic is left to get cruched by the Dauntless-ness of ..._I'll think of something later..._  
To say it in a less elaborating way: review.


	4. Outcry

**Beware. **The non-con isn't in subtext anymore.  
No beta help yet.  
(I don't even know how to spell that...ehum. Beata? Not betaed?)

**

* * *

**

**Outcry**

Sparrow was smiling blindly into Cut's face, his head forced back by the fist in his hair. Cut yanked harder and Sparrow's lips parted in pain. "Jack..." whispered Cut, with a soft, superior tone, breathing into his mouth. Cut caught Norrington's eyes, and those blue eyes of the pirate swiveled with an excitement that was rather distressing. His voice was intense, and almost intimate. He still claimed Norrington's eyes. "Have you ever thought of ...Captain Jack Sparrow... as a boy?" Norrington found himself at a loss for words, but Cut released him and gazed at Sparrow. "A mere lad..." he whispered, pressing closer, and Jack looked so trapped, strainness fluttering over his face as he shut his eyes for a moment.

An unspoken order passed between Cut and his other lackey, who eagerly seized Sparrow mane, forcing his head back even further. "Such a jaw..." continued Cut, now tracing his free hand along the line. Norrington felt a cold grip in his gut as those rude hands intruded the pure beauty... the pure beauty of Jack's throat... He wanted to object most fervently, but his throat was filled with ache, rendering him speechless.

"Such a mouth..." Cut's voice was like a dark dream. His index finger played with Jack's lower lip, and then he crashed his on mouth upon it, and Jack's body contracted. Norrington cringed, and the full meaning of "molestation" stood suddenly clear for him, as Jack struggled and was pinned between the two men. Sow's heavy breathing by his ear was appalling.

Jack wasn't frozen anymore, he fought vainly against the hand that was clammed over his mouth, unable to put space between him and the brute, there was a rashness in the two ravagers, and since Cut didn't need to hold Jack now, he was parting the white shirt with both his hands and the memory of how Jack hurriedly had pulled it close was clear and sharp in Norrington's mind.

Jack kicked and jerked while Cut bumbled with his legs, succeeding when the lackey closed off Jack's ability to breath completely. With Jack tractable, Cut could brutally force Jack's legs up around his own waist. The way both of them thrust into Jack was outrageous, and Sow's faint motions and harsh breathing was so close to him, like it was contagion him, seeping in and soiling him. It was unbearable to watch, but Norrington couldn't tear his eyes from it, and Jack still didn't seem to get any air. Cut was clawing at Jack's breeches, pulling, and Jack finally managed to turn his head out of the grip, desperately sucking in air. Time seemed to stop when he met Jack's eyes, they burned with rage, but somehow, intervened was a pain, a knowing, despairing pain. Too endless to hold in, it emitted and shredded inside Norrington.

"STOP!" he yelled, an outcry from within his soul. They did halt, and Norrington continued, somewhat breathless. "Stop. No need to show any further. I sign over the Dauntless."

"Good." Cut was speaking through his labored breathing. "However." He was grinding slowly against Jack. "I've no reason to... stop." He resumed to work at Jack's breeches, more effectively now, when the rashness was subdued. "Captain Jack Sparrow... and I have... our own accord. So..." his hand was moving over Jack's bare backside, "Captain Jack Sparrow?" he asked, eyes locked with Sparrow's again. Then he grinned that cutting smile. "Didn't think so." And the hand moved lower, fingers grazing... poking...

This was too horrible to watch. Norrington swallowed, and his eyes shut. Something inside him settled. "No," he said, low and resolute. He opened his eyes, but refused to look at what Cut was doing, focusing on his face. "No. You can have the Dauntless, if you stop right now," Norrington's said coldly. He felt like he was back on solid ground again, and knew exactly what was right, and pierced his eyes into Cut's. "_Only_ if you stop right now." Jack stared at him with amazingly big eyes, stunned beyond comprehension. Cut was surprised, and regarded him estimating, before he shrugged and shrewdly casted his eyes between Norrington and Jack.

"Very well, " he said with a small smirk. "I shall consider this." He leaned forward, and that brute of his seemed to know his mind, because he clamped his hand over Jack's forehead, releasing his mouth, and Cut kissed him sloppily before he eased Jack back to the floor. His drifting hands as he did so infuriated Norrington beyond beliefs. Cut stepped away with a final tug to Jack's breeches. Jack didn't move. He stood with his shirt torn and his breeches by his feet, following Cut with a black, grim gaze as Cut and his men moved out, and once again locked them in the brig.

* * *

Phuu. For a moment I feared I wasn't able to interrupt Cut in a believable way. But then Norrington continued with that inexorable "No." Bless him! )

If you like this, please give me something back.  
**You know what I want!**


End file.
